Clutched
by faraways
Summary: Life is often taken for granted.


**author; **brazensers  
**characters; **Ignotus Peverell, Antioch Peverell, and Death.  
**pairings; **Mentioned Cadmus Peverell/OC.  
**wordcount; **2,700  
**disclaimer; **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of the author of the work from which this is derived.

**notes; **For the Chinese Moon Festival Competition on HPFC. I included the bonus prompt, _moon_.

* * *

**Clutched**

* * *

**001.**

Upon opening his eyes, he begins again.

**002.**

Ignotus Peverell knows he is dead.

After seventy-six years, it is the only logical and reasonable assumption in this new world to make: he has finally been Clutched. Death isn't something inescapable, of that he has—or _had_, apparently—always been aware, been ready for. He does, however, think it would have been a more difficult win for Death—much more difficult, in fact, than just drifting off peacefully in innocent, blissful sleep.

The Third Brother stands, aware immediately of the cold drift on his shoulders, the absence of his silky smooth guard. His shield has vanished, along with his life, and the Cloak of Invisibility rests in new hands. He thinks that perhaps it is for the best; his son is certainly a trustworthy man, taught responsibly and safely. Ignotus shivers, imagining the tyranny that could behold if his creation were to fall into the wrong grasp, the wrong hold of greed.

**003.**

Ignotus is a smart man, prideful of his cunningness and wit. But when he stops the gears of thinking in his mind for just those few moments, he realizes he doesn't know what he is supposed to do. What of his destiny is left?

During life, he had always let his mind contemplate things outside the realm of life after death, of Hell and of Heaven—it had always been easier than trying to figure out more of Death's secrets, as knowledgeable as the Third Brother might be. And now he regrets not being curious—_courageous—_enough to pursue the subject. Surely libraries would have had some information? Or if dusty old books weren't in-depth enough, as Ignotus usually finds of his eager mind, the young scholar Tiberius Crouch would have been delighted to provide information to one of the elders of Godric's Hollow.

A small sigh puffs out of Ignotus, who fiddles with his thumbs mindlessly. Eventually, his train of thought moves on once more.

Time passes in his new surroundings, an incalculable amount. He does not mind.

**004.**

Wise as he is, Ignotus cannot describe the location of his afterlife: it is blinding, that much he is sure of. But that is it. Everything else appears a flurry of nature, color, breezes, singing, stone. He decides that the afterlife is simply a combination of everything. Everything he has seen, touched, felt, heard. To him, it makes perfect sense.

It is a nice life, his life of everything. He doesn't feel pangs of hunger, nor the urge to cover his naked body. There is nothing to gain in this world, but also nothing to lose, no pain. He feels no ambitiousness, no want.

Except for one thing.

The Third Brother still desires knowledge.

After all, old habits die very, _very_ hard.

**005.**

When Death appears, Ignotus cannot arrange his expression into one of surprise. Feeling emotions is difficult in the afterlife, though sometimes he manages to become confused; seldom, his mind is unable to grasp a solution to one of the many problems he muses over while trying to kill time in his new home.

Death looks no different than the first time all those years ago, when Ignotus was just sixteen. It is just a substance of nothing. Not despair nor fury, like many would think—just the same cloaked, night-colored figure.

"Greetings," Death says, casting the Third brother a polite nod.

Ignotus purses his lips. "The same to you, old friend."

A dry chuckle usurps from deep within Death. He hasn't laughed in such a long time, and he values the noise as priceless, something to be kept forever, for laughing is a rare occasion, what with his rather depressing niche and all. "I have Clutched you," Death states simply.

"I offer you my congratulations," Ignotus replies.

At this Death thunders, for, even though the dry humor was made at his own expense, the chance to let himself become throaty with impenetrable giggling is precious. "You are as clever and witty as always—sometimes I forget the reason you bested me all those years ago."

"Mm." The Third Brother acknowledges the praise indifferently, eyes trained on the Dark One's long, bony fingers warily, though he knows Death could not touch him here, where life was the only thing remaining for him.

"Of course, I did not come here to relive meaningless and forgotten circumstances," Death continues, flicking his hand mindlessly. "There are arrangements to be made, now that you have been Clutched."

Ignotus raises an eyebrow at this. "What kind of arrangements?"

Death's lip curls mischievously. "You know, Ignotus… I never was one for tricks, until you came along. The first time we met, you were only but six, watching your mother in her bed. Do you remember that?"

He grins as the Third Brother's fists clench, the purple veins straining under the thin, porcelain skin, a result of elderly age.

"I will take _that_—" Death gestures to Ignotus's threatening posture, "—as a 'yes'. I'm also sure you remember how she kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and every time she closed her eyes, you started to cry, only to wipe away your tears again as she reawakened. Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to know that _I_ was doing that. Taking her life and giving it back, not sure what I wanted to do with her, though she wasn't what I cared about. I was having so much fun with_ you_… I couldn't stop."

A small snarl leaves Ignotus, anger beginning to come in waves off the man, the first of the emotion he has felt since his arrival here.

Chuckling softly, Death continues, "Finally, I just decided to Clutch her. You were becoming boring, though I knew you had a larger destiny with me anyway, that I would see you again. Surely enough, I _did_ see you again, ten years later to the exact. Visiting your mother's grave, though I suppose I don't need to remind you. I challenged you once more, but this time I lost." He pauses for a moment, his expression regretful and sad, though not an expression for the prying, hateful gaze of Ignotus Peverell, for his face was hidden under the hood Death had done about his business behind for so long. "Then you were given the Cloak, and I could no longer find you. I could no longer have fun with you. But now I can, though I promise you this will be the last excursion we have together."

Ignotus narrows his eyes, though abruptly attempts to change the subject, repeating his earlier question. "What kind of arrangements must be made?"

Death just shakes his head. "You will see."

When the cloaked figure suddenly evaporates into the air without warning, Ignotus finds himself relieved, for Death can touch him no longer, affect his life and his path no more. It is a nice thought, but he also wishes he could have truly defeated Death, wiped it from existence.

(But he didn't, and it was promised he would never meet Death again.)

And so the Third Brother lies down and closes his eyes, enjoying the new world of peace and perfect, where everything is just a wand-length away. Seconds travel by, bundling together into a mountainous amount of days. He could not care less.

**006.**

Ignotus doesn't notice his mindless thinking, he only notices the state of his current problem, his thought-provoking issue, of the day. Time ticks and tocks in the real world, threading into a massive, complicated web of ten years. And for these ten years, he thinks only of "good", and of "bad". They are his favorite stereotypes.

And yet, they are also absurdities to the Third Brother—divisions that separate humankind further than they have been separated already; by war and love, poverty and hunger. Death also separates humankind, but it is not Bad, not dark or evil. Sure, it is annoying and horrible, but it is necessary if new life is to arrive, if families are to stay united, if countries are to coexist.

Good and Bad do not exist. To Ignotus, there are only charming things—the ones you wish you hold forever in your grasp, and tedious things—the ones that eventually get tiresome and disgusting, and that you wish never bothered to arrive on earth.

The Third Brother creates this solution to "good" and "bad". And then, he simply moves on, wondering who in tarnation would ever think of something so newfangled as a Pensieve, a memory-reviving thingamajigger created just before Death had Clutched him. Young Tiberius Crouch had ranted about it all afternoon once, when Ignotus invited him for tea…

**007.**

The next to approach Ignotus pleases him greatly. It is a man, a giant hulking figure of pure, hardened muscles of stone, his chiseled, broad face spread into a wide smile. The brilliant golden-brown gaze of Antioch Peverell flashes with emotion as he pulls his brother into a long-overdue hug, one that would have crushed the Third in life.

"Brother, I knew you had it in you!" thunders Antioch, his voice containing the same pride it always had, the same pride that had attracted beautiful women, but also envious enemies and greedy murderers.

Ignotus grins, his stubby, nimble fingers gripping his older brother's shoulder, never wanting to let go. "It has been so long."

"Hah." The First pulls away from Ignotus, the white teeth of his lopsided smile showing through the curly black hairs of his lengthy stubble. "That is true," he adds, punching his brother lightly on the shoulder, though it is easy to see the underlying jealousy in his golden gaze. The gigantic man wasn't happy his humble brother had outlived him, even after so many years.

"Where is Cadmus?" Ignotus addresses the mountainous man curiously, peering around, looking for the gangly, curly-haired brother, the Second.

Antioch frowns, biting his lip anxiously, while his eyes flash around nervously. "He… is not in this life. He didn't join me here." He opens his mouth as if to say more, but clamps it shut into a tight line, looking almost regretful.

The Third Brother narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Where is he, then?"

A nervous chuckle escapes Antioch. "Cadmus killed himself for Sissy. You should have known he'd go with her, into her Muggle afterlife. They don't have the same beliefs as wizards, those Muggles. S'pose his love or whatever was strong enough to follow her there." He shrugs.

Ignotus sighs and runs his hand through his messy jet-black hair, like he had so many times as a young man whenever he was anxious. He wishes deeply that he could have seen the deep, intelligent brown eyes of Cadmus just _once_ more, or seen him twist the curly mustache that he had always been so proud of, for it had taken years of trimming and growing for such a perfect arrangement of hair to be made.

Antioch, on the other hand, thinks of the day he and Cadmus went swimming in Harvard Lake, just outside of the Hollow's city limits. The youngest of the brothers had been only four then, and they were tired of watching him while their mother lay sickly in bed. The two oldest escaped the house, swimming to their hearts content underneath the brilliant, golden full moon until their father found them and gave them a good beating for leaving their brother and mother unattended.

Finally, the Third Brother clears his throat. "What has happened to your wand?"

Antioch grimaces. "I do not know. It has already been passed so many times since I was Clutched, I haven't bothered to keep track of it any longer. I last knew of it belonging to Rufus Bartholomew."

"Hmm." Ignotus contemplates this, letting time draw out, thinking, planning. He escapes into his mind once more, forgetting the large stance of his oldest brother before him.

The First Brother's laughter interrupts his thinking, the golden gaze of Antioch shining with tears of humor. "I still… can't believe… you… do that…" he boomed between wheezing breaths, trying to stop his continuous deep giggles.

Ignotus rolls his brown eyes, but quickly proposes a new question, eager to stop the brother he had always admired in life from laughing at him. "What are we supposed to do now?" This was the one question he was not able to find a solution for, and it had bugged him endlessly—to the point where the Third Brother started tearing his curly black hair out of his scalp without even noticing.

The ear-splitting laughter stops at once. "That is what needs to be arranged," Antioch replies, his eyes cast to the ground, barely acknowledging Ignotus's eyebrow-raise at the word 'arranged'. "You see, brother… I have a choice of where I want to venture forward to. I already know my decisions, I just… wanted to wait here so I could inform you."

"What are you ta—" Ignotus begins.

"Let me finish," Antioch interrupts sharply, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to Hell. And yes, it _does_ exist," he adds as Ignotus opens his mouth again. "I have sinned, but I have also done a great good: I have conquered Death. Or… at least, I _did_. For a short while.

"That means I get a choice. And I'm choosing Hell. I'm sure you're wondering why, with that gigantic ticker of yours, so I'll tell you: it's purely for adventure. Life in Heaven will be too peaceful for me, there'll be nothing left. But Hell will be exciting, something I might get to conquer. I like adventure, brother. I am ambitious man, as I'm sure you are already aware of."

Ignotus's face crumples with sadness. He has waited so many years, and now his dream has been snatched from him, quick as a flash. He has waited to reunite with his brothers in a good, happy place, and now he only gets to have one of them, and only for this short time. He contains his weary sobs with difficulty.

What is left for him?

Nothing.

Cadmus left him. Mother left him. Antioch is leaving soon. Even Death has left him, the thing that always followed him, always tried to anticipate his next move and ruin every carefully thought-out detail in Ignotus's plan. Death is no more for him.

There is nothing for him, even in the place of everything.

**008.**

Antioch leaves shortly after his announcement, and Ignotus bids him a quiet farewell. He knows if he tries to say anything more, he will only embarrass his older brother by bursting into tears.

He does not understand what he did to deserve losing everything. He conquered Death, he started a legend. He was not selfish or proud, sneaky or arrogant. He inspires witches and wizards today, in the stories that are just beginning to form. He raised a smart, strong son with great potential, whose young son will be just as smart and strong.

Ignotus loves his family more than anything. They are his rock, his soul. They were his meaning of life. He sighs and ruffles his hair, smiling contentedly as the memory of his two-year-old grandson tottering around on chubby legs floats into his mind. Johaxon Peverell has the same curly black hair as his grandfather, and his grandfather's brothers. They live on in him.

And maybe it doesn't matter that Ignotus is not still living. His soul rests with his son, and with his son's son, little two-year-old Johaxon. His family will carry with them his legend, and he will not be forgotten.

All is not lost.

Ignotus's family is not lost.

That thought is precious. It is enough to bring glowing light into Ignotus, and also to bring Ignotus's final decision, the happiest one he knows he will ever make.

The Third Brother takes his first step in Heaven, and it is Good. It does not entirely make sense to the man. After all, Good is an absurdity, a strange thing.

But so is Heaven.

And it is also beautiful.

**009.**

The end is both sad and happy.

There are three brothers: one ambitious, one proud, one clever. They have grown up together, discovered together, conquered together. After life they diverge on three different paths, never to see each other again. They take bits of each other with them, however.

And they never forget.


End file.
